


Immortal Beloved

by Bruteaous



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-10
Updated: 2014-10-10
Packaged: 2018-02-20 16:38:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2435621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bruteaous/pseuds/Bruteaous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And that was how it started. The ending became a beginning and if anyone had thought the Heir of the Demon was formidable before, she was going to be damn near unstoppable now when it came to protecting her heart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Immortal Beloved

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own this story or any of the characters.

For a secret city deep in the Tibetan Mountains, news reached Nanda Parbat very quickly.

 

The atmosphere was arid and cold and the climb to the walled city was long and treacherous, but the novices chosen out of every training class were usually so enthused to be doing anything at all of importance that the danger involved in the undertaking of keeping Nanda Parbat connected to the outside world didn't phase them. Neither, apparently, did the high mortality rate. Most of them would not make it to see the business end of an arrow let alone use one, but some evils were necessary such as the continued influx of information into the League's capital and the human price it took to maintain it daily.

 

 That morning, a messenger had arrived at the high stone gates, a panting shivering mess saying he had news for the Heir to the Demon--more specifically he said, when Shiva threatened to deman him--in regards to the Heir to the Demon's heart. The poor boy looked relieved when the Lady Shiva took the burden of the message from him and left him unharmed, she could only imagine why. If not for the fact that she feared very little, she would have marched that miserable pissant of an initiate up to the main compound himself and forced him down to his knees in front of Nyssa to take her wrath, but this was no ordinary report on the goings on of the League and Shiva had a feeling as she raced up each level of steps towards the main hall built into the summit of the rock face that it was going to have repercussions for the League and its entire future.

 

She entered the main compound without losing speed. The enormous building with its inward sloping walls and wooden columns inlaid with ornate carvings was known colloquially as the "Lair of the Demon" and it was where Ra's Al Ghul and his children had their living quarters. The vast stairways inside were more ornate than those outside and they gently loped upwards, never giving into the familiar bleak steepness of the mountains, allowing Shiva to race up them like they were just levels on a hill. The walls she blurred by were inlaid with wooden panels that had been lovingly sculpted by carpenters a hundred years ago as were paper-covered wooden latticeworks that separated the short-waisted windowpanes from the cold morning air. The smell of cedar hung in the air and though sometimes she would find it comforting, she could afford to take none of it in now. 

 

Before she reached her final destination, she could hear voices from within the antechamber to Nyssa's rooms. Not loud or raised voices, but faded, tensed tones that felt ectopic in such a large space. Shiva halted her brisk pace and debated waiting for a moment. Perhaps, she could wait to tell Nyssa. Perhaps, the news would hold a little longer. It was one thing to come bearing information that a friend had died on a mission they had thought they would die in anyway (because every mission had its dangers) and entirely another to let the Heir to the Demon know that her lover was dead. There was no telling how Nyssa would react. She would be pissed of course, but would she rebel against it? Would she deny that such a thing was even possible of her Ta-er-al-as-fer or would she accept it and fold inward on herself? And if she did the latter, then where would that leave the League? In Talia's ruthless and relentless hands? 

 

Shiva paced back and forth a moment, listening to the careful cadence of voices murmuring in and out of the woodwork at an inconsistent volume. Then she stopped suddenly, took a deep breath, and pushed the double doors open. 

 

The main antechamber had changed little over the years. It had carved benches and chairs and colorful wall tapestries reminiscent of the country Ra's Al Ghul had originally fled to come here. At it's heart was a round table and Talia was sitting at it, regarding Shiva's sudden entrance curiously. Nyssa was standing, pouring jasmine tea from a silver teapot into  a painted glass cup on the other side of the table that matched the one Talia was cradling. She looked as impeccable as ever and yet harried somehow, stressed. Visits from her sister did sometimes have that effect on her though. 

 

Talia raised an eyebrow, but didn't ask the question that was no doubt burning on her tongue: what are you doing here? 

 

Nyssa's remained neutral, but her posture relaxed slightly as if the presence of someone else in the room might remove the stress of having Talia present. Shiva took a deep breath and began.   


"Forgive me, but a messenger arrived this morning with news from Starling City and I believe it would be something best relayed in private." 

 

Nyssa's eyes narrowed, but she didn't say anything and without further prompting Talia stood. 

 

"Far be it from me to keep news of your precious yellow bird from you." Talia said, straightening the simple red dress she wore. She wasn't dressed for the training yard, which meant that her presence here was a social visit and that was rare. "Maybe she's flown the coup again, do you think?" 

 

Shiva swallowed loudly and Nyssa's posture stiffened as she took a seat at the table, but she didn't dignify Talia's dig with a response. 

 

"Leave me, sister, please." 

 

'Why not, maybe I'll actually find something interesting to do today in lieu of not being able to bother you." 

 

Talia slid past Shiva in the doorway like a snake slithering off into the shadows, her footsteps fading down the stairs. Shiva immediately closed the double doors and turned so that she was facing Nyssa again.

 

"I'm afraid it is not good news that I have brought you." Shiva continued, gathering what little courage she felt she still possessed. "Your Ta-er-al-as-fer has been killed. She was visiting with her family last night after her work in Starling City had been completed and an archer, we do not know whom, ambushed her. She was shot three times and fell off of a rooftop where her sister found her." 

 

Shiva hadn't known what sort of reaction she had been expecting, but it certainly wasn't deathly silence. One minute went by, then two, then three, four, and five.  Finally, Nyssa stood back up, her hands supporting her weight as she leaned on the wooden surface of the cedar table heavily. 

 

"Get out," escaped Nyssa's parted lips in a low whisper. When Shiva didn't move, it came again this time unstable and loud, a dangerous command. "Get out! Get out!" 

 

Shiva's eyes widened before she opened one of the doors and ducked out of the room as quickly as she had appeared. 

 

Nyssa stood, her hands splayed across the table holding her up. The dark wood bled between her parted fingers like something black and damp and poisonous. She tried to take a deep breath, but found that she was unable to breathe. Her chest constricted and she collapsed to her knees, head and hands still bent over the table, trying like hell to breathe as the first waves of loss and pain settled in. 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The room was trashed. The main table she and Talia had been sitting at before was turned upside down with its legs in the air. Both benches had been broken against the battered walls  and now decorated the tiled floor in large splintered chunks. The tapestries on the walls had been ripped down and everywhere metal trinkets were scattered among shards of pulverized glass. Nyssa was sitting back against one unabused section of wall intentionally oblivious of her surroundings. Her hair--usually tied tightly back for a fight--was loose and wild. There were fresh tears trekking down her cheeks and her eyes were rimmed red as if lined with blood. Her feet were bare and covered in gory cuts where they'd encountered broken glass while carrying her through the destruction of the room like some vengeful spirit. 

 

Nyssa felt cold, numb, and raw all at once as if she'd been left tied upon one of the mountain cliffs for the fierce winds and elements to chip away at and belittle. Nyssa was broken. She was inconsolable and she was furious. The entire stretch of time while she was reducing her antechamber to ruins, enraged screams and gut wrenching sobs had reverberated throughout the corridors between the crunching death throes of murdered furniture and the heavy thumps of metal objects ricocheting from wall to floor. 

 

After an hour or two of this enraged besiegement, the halls had quieted down almost immediately only now the stillness wasn't tranquil. It hung humidly in the air with a sense of suffering and foreboding. There was no peace. No one in the Demon's Lair would be able to know peace--not when Nyssa had to endure such agony at the hands of some stranger who took her love away. 

 

Against her more prevalent instincts for self preservation, Lady Shiva had returned later when the sun was beginning to glow darker as it dipped behind the mountain peaks and found Nyssa in such a state appearing more broken than anyone save for Sara had ever seen her. 

 

"Nyssa, your father is asking for you," Shiva said, shifting uncomfortably in the doorway. 

 

It was like walking onto a battlefield only this one was private. Nyssa didn't look at her. There wasn't a point. 

 

"I don't want to see him," Nyssa whispered, her voice a hollow echo of its usual strength. 

 

Shiva crouched down in the doorway, but didn't move any closer. She had known Nyssa ever since she had come to the League as a child. They had much and common and had at one time been friends so she knew enough to keep her distance and not to speak but to listen. 

 

"Do you think she suffered?" Nyssa asked brokenly, not even bothering to wipe the new tears away as they began to fall. "It doesn't matter. She's still gone." 

 

Shiva nodded solemnly, "Dead is dead." 

 

They conversation lapsed for a moment. Then Nyssa crawled to her knees and stood slowly. She moved to the only untouched piece of furniture in the place--the weapon's chest--and removed her bow. 

 

"I need to go to Starling City, to bring her home." Nyssa said, the wheels in her head beginning to spin at their usual pace. 

 

"Why here?" 

 

Nyssa rolled her shoulders and closed the chest, looking like herself for the first time since that morning. 

 

"Because my father's Lazarus pit is here."

 

And that was how it started. The ending became a beginning and if anyone had thought the Heir of the Demon was formidable before, she was going to be damn near unstoppable now when it came to protecting her heart. 

 


End file.
